From Beginning to End
by Ensteinium
Summary: What happened before the story and how they came to be. COMPLETE.


[From Beginning to End]

•••••

Her father is a broad shouldered man with a lion's mane of dark red hair and a booming laughter that shakes your bones. Her mother is a fiery brunette with sharp eyes and an even sharper tongue. They love their little girl, so tender and new, and they love her fiercely. Their life is one of peaceful days and happy nights, punctuated by joyful giggles from the young girl, still yet called by an unfamiliar name.

When the attack comes, her father takes up his wood cutting axe and tells his wife that he'll be back soon. Her mother purses her lips and wipes watery eyes that hold no hope.

They burst down the door and take her screaming, as she fights tooth and nail to get away. Then the walls crash down and the buildings are reduced rubble in a battle that destroys the town.

Hours later, a small blue haired child picks her way through the ruins and hears a baby cry.

•••••

She is a criminal on the run, and she meets him in the night. They come together only once, dark to light, seeking warmth in the cold chill of the shadows. She is informed of the consequences a few weeks later.

At first she make excuses. She's on the run, there's no time for an operation- maybe when she's safe, maybe when there's time. But all too soon, it's all too late, and her eyes tear up with both overwhelming joy and overwhelming pain when a small foot kicks her steadily growing belly.

She goes back home to give birth. It is a dangerous move for naught but sentimentality, but she does it anyways. Hours of sweaty pain and labour and then she's looking down at the bundle in her arms. She has her eyes- her little girl. Her little girl that she can't keep. It would have been kinder just to end her life before it started, maybe even to end it now, but she can't bring herself to do it. She stares at the newborn babe in her arms, so innocent to the cruelties of the world, and does the only thing she can.

She cries.

••••••

They are a normal enough couple, as far as couples go, if not somewhat eccentric. All three of them are monstrously tall, all thin and gangly with knobby knees. Both father and son share their wiry black curls that defy gravity as they please, springy spirals unconfined by any means.

He grows up a fairly normal life with his mostly normal parents. His father teaches him the family trade, music and melody singing through his bones. His mother passes down the stories of yonder, daring and dashing adventurers of the sea.

He does various odd jobs in his teens, fixing clocks and painting cups. Then one day he's ready. He kisses his mother on the cheek and shakes his father's hand and leaves, taking nothing but his violin and his grandfather's old top hat.

•••••

He was abandoned as a child, unwanted and unneeded. His mother was from the dirtier districts of the city, a dancer from a shady establishment. His creation was a mistake and his birth had nothing to do with love. She let the pregnancy go through because abortion is expensive and she couldn't afford any disfiguring scars- not in her profession. The moment she could walk, she left him in an alley, covered in nothing but an old rag she'd scavenged from the hamper.

The orphanage matron heard his cries and picked him up, bundling him up in her shawl, and taking him home. As she sat in her wicker rocking chair, she fingered his light blue curls and smiled. This one would be hers, she decided, and promptly named him after her late husband.

When the old matron died, there was no one there to take him in and he left for the streets.

•••••

They grew up together in their quiet little village, tucked away from the rest of the world. They grew up together, childhood friends before anything else. He was never particularly handsome, his brows too bushy and his lashes too long, his lips too wide and large. She was never particularly beautiful either, with her too large nose and and pointy features.

But he grew into a fine man and she grew into a lovely lady and they fell into a picture perfect story of romance long awaited. They married with their parents permission and bought a quaint little house on the outskirts. But then the red-haired man comes along and snares his dreams, flooding them with imagery of bravery and adventure. And she lets him go, because she wants him happy. He returns a few years later, and stays for a few years more, but the sea calls out to him, even louder than the wails of his newborn son, and she lets him go once again, even as illness and anxiety wracked her body.

It is the last time she sees him.

••••••

He is a charming man with golden hair and golden words and he courts her so sweetly it feels like a dream. She is a petite woman with flaming red hair that curls in wisps, a mysterious past and more assets than a normal person should have. They meet in the kitchen, a waitress and a chef. He's a professional, the best of the best, and she's a bumbling beginner, obviously unsuited to doing things for others. The rest blurs together in a whirlwind of smitten glances and smoldering touches and soon enough they're wedded.

A few months later and a baby's on the way and they couldn't be happier.

He teaches his son the cooking basics- how to hold a knife and when to add salt- and she teaches him his manners- how to treat a lady and when it is polite to refuse. He is raised with more poise than a boy of his stature usually is, and his parents are oh so proud.

Then they take him out to sea. It's a cruise ship, traveling from North Blue to East and it's where they spend their next few months, working as servants to pay their board. They'd rather be guests than servants, but the money had run short and this was the only way they could take their boy to see the wonders of the vast blue sea.

Soon enough, she's with child again and she can't wait to tell her son- he's going to be a big brother!

Then, the pirates attack.

••••••

It is not in an animal's nature to be cruel.

Cruelty is a human thing, created and perfected by humans; animals do not know or understand such behaviour. What animals do understand is fear. Herbivores especially understand fear. Animals in herds also understand one other thing- family. The bond of family and love and the fear of losing them.

But animals are not like humans. They are primitive creatures and their brains are not as adept at understanding the concepts of the world. The herd is the family, and the family protects each other. When the strange calf is born, they are unsure. It is family but it is strange. It is a different colour- is it sick? Will it hurt the herd? The herd loves but it is scared and the scared do what they must.

When the strange calf changes again, there is little they can do. Because the calf is too strange now, too different. It is blue and it changes size and it makes such odd noises.

It does not smell the same.

They drive the strange one off- the one that looks like their calf but it is not. It's parents mourn for as long as the can- they grieve for their strange little calf that was replaced by something even more odd. But they are but primitive animals. They will remember for as long as their minds will let them, as the memory swiftly fades away.

•••••

He met her in his teens. He was a runaway, trying to escape the strict regime of a marine father and she was a simple village girl. She has large eyes and nimble fingers, an impish grin that shines brighter than the sun and a heart more pure than anything he'd ever seen before. She tussles with the younger kids and rolls in the dirt, prancing through the streets in her rags and never more happy. He is fascinated by her- her and her simple ways and her simple love.

When his father comes knocking and he starts packing, his last thought is of her and her boisterous laughter.

He comes back a few years later. He's a pirate now- no longer just a teenage rebel- and he has a bounty higher than what most men aspire to make in a lifetime. She remarks on his tattoo, a fairly new thing that sprawls across his face, when they meet next and he replies by telling her she hasn't changed at all.

Their wedding is something short, sweet and simple, just like her, and then they're off. She is absorbed into his crew like water to a sponge, like maybe she has been what they were missing all along. Times are happy and so are they.

It doesn't stay that way.

When they discover she's pregnant, there is a party larger than it should have been, for criminals in hiding. The marines find out eventually, somehow, and everything falls apart.

As the navy searches harder and his hours run longer, their relationship grows strained and she grows weaker. There are complications with the pregnancy, complications in their marriage and complications with the law.

When their son is born, the sun shines bright and their love is as strong as ever. A few weeks later, she is shot by marines and his heart is frozen stiff. He dumps his son onto his father- his son, too happy, too young, already too much like her- and dons his new title.

The Revolutionary.

•••••

She had been there as long as they can remember. The sweet girl with the soft touch and the warm smile who lived in the rundown shack around the corner. Not many knew her name, but everyone new her face. And one day when her belly grows, they know she is with child. Nobody knows the father- she certainly doesn't mention anyone- but everyone agrees that she will be a wonderful mother.

And she is. The baby's hair is a bright grass green, a few shades darker than hers, and is as happy as can be. He is a joyous child full of burbles and giggles and brimming with curiosity that knows no bounds. He has just learned how to crawl when the bandits come knocking.

The blade flies and the blood arcs and a sea of red spreads as her body hits the floor. The survivors search the pillaged houses and everyone recoils in horror when the find the child splashing in a crimson puddle beside a cold corpse. A demon child, they whisper. No one takes him in.

He learns to live on the streets, getting by by quick fingers and cunning, running when those stronger came to play. He no longer laughs. All he owns is his name and the dirt caking his skin, just an ambitionless vagabond on the wind.

Until the day he sees a man take out a dozen bandits in a single swing, with nothing but a plain black sword.

* * *

**Right, so obviously I took some creative liberties. These are in no particular order either. Hopefully I made it obvious enough as to which story belonged to who. If you don't understand or are confused, just ask! and yes, these are all disproportionate, some being a bit long and others being embarrassingly short- I worked with what I had okay! You can't blame me for not having anything to work with!**

**But yeah, creative liberties. For all that we get 60 minute long flashbacks, there's still a lot left missing. Sanji _before_ Zeff? No clue. Why is chibi Zoro running around with a sword in the first place? No idea. Why didn't dragon raise Luffy? Who knows. **

**Also, pretty much ALL of Brook's life is still unknown. We know almost nothing really.**

**In the anime (not sure about the manga) Franky says that his parents abandoned him. Well... they still kinda did here, right? Sorta? Whatever, I like my version and I'm sticking to it!**

**I tried to take a different perspective when it came to Chopper, because we have to remember that we're not dealing with people here, so it changes the situation entirely.**

**And in my universe, Zoro's father had black hair. Make of that what you will...**


End file.
